In Ghostlike Fading

This Brooklyn band on Warp swirls together influences including the Verve, Spiritualized, and the Velvet Underground, aiming for a familiar kind of drug-sick state of grace.

It's not usually a good sign when being from Brooklyn is a new band's major talking point. And even if Warp is still mostly considered a forward-thinking electronic label, it shouldn't be much of shock when they release something doesn't sound exactly like Autechre-- see Grizzly Bear, Born Ruffians, Maximo Park. But this Bushwick-via-Philly quintet's debut album somehow manages to exist in both of those realms. Despite being so out of character and anti-fashionable, it circles around to be its own kind of fashionability. While Fred Coldwell sings with a Yankee accent, this bleary-eyed and heartsick comedown rock is almost always associated with the UK or called "classic rock" by people who like to believe the Velvet Underground's popularity is equal to their influence. More than anything, In Ghostlike Fading sets out to make you think, "they really don't make 'em like this anymore."

Or, more accurately, they haven't made 'em like this since 2008. That's the last time we got new albums from Spiritualized and the Verve. My Best Fiend come from a similar place, one where, to borrow a phrase from Richard Ashcroft, the drugs still work and they just make you worse. That said, In Ghostlike Fading lacks those bands' dope-sickness or cosmonautic ambition. Most of these songs follow a similar pattern: a few basic chords strummed on an acoustic soon joined by Coldwell's pleasingly adenoidal sneer, maybe a little electric piano or bluesy noodling tossed in to make it clear things are just warming up. The drums eventually come in and play so intently and unobtrusively that it's easy to overlook that they go missing for several minutes at a time. And then those same chords get played louder, and maybe a saxophone or slightly gospel-infused backing vocals makes things a little more widescreen but never too overblown. Given these elements, I can't help but think of In Ghostlike Fading personified as a dumpy apartment of college kids hungover on keg beer milling about, shooting the shit, and waiting for that one last guy to come out of hiding so they can finally get some brunch.

Which is to say that even with the cushy song lengths and top-shelf influences, In Ghostlike Fading feels like comfort food. There are certainly individual moments that stand out-- "Cracking Eggs" spends approximately 60 percent of its runtime in climax mode, windmilling guitar chords and massing group vocals on top of each other. On the opposite end, the gorgeous title track creates a florid, stare-at-the-sun psychedelia, and the ethereal arpeggios that cycle through the entirety of closing waltz "On the Shores of the Infinite" follow in that vein with an almost creepy delicateness.

But for all of its immediate pleasure, In Ghostlike Fading feels slightly vacant, valuing tribute and stylization above personal expression. Sonically, My Best Fiend have enough "copy of a copy" accusations to face, and Coldwell's lyrics are fittingly heavy on standard religious tropes and vague drug references placed just so that In Ghostlike Fading feels often inexpressive beyond a surface level (and potentially raises the question of just how much Chris Owens' biography influences our assessment of Girls' doing something similar). Take, appropriately enough, "Jesus Christ", if the mere title of the supine acoustic strummer "One Velvet Day" doesn't do it. I have no reason to think the feeling behind something like, "Jesus Christ, I know that I'm wrong/ But I swear to God, I won't do it much longer," is somehow inauthentic-- lord knows, it's not aiming for the zeitgeist. But similar platitudes pop up all too frequently.

My Best Fiend can charm by never betraying the fact that they're still young, and it's understandable that they have a better feel for their record collection than they do their own voices. So In Ghostlike Fading shows a group still admirably ready to open up for arena bands or play early daytime shifts at festivals. It's not a stretch to think My Best Fiend's next batch of songs could come from those experiences, and hopefully they can do more to make them sound like theirs alone.